The Night Before Gaugamela

Disclaimer: “Alexander Senki” (Haruki Novel) is property of Hiroshi Aramata, Alexander Committee, Samsung and maybe other lucky individuals whose names I do not know. I only borrowed the charas to have some fun. No copyright infringiment intended.

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\"The Night Before Gaugamela\"

Alexander was receiving worried glances from everyone in the tent, but pretended not to notice. He knew his friends were concerned. He had just refused to attack the Persian army with the favour of the night, claiming he hadn’t gotten that far only to steal victory. Brave words, that sounded insane with the knowledge that they would face an army of five hundred thousands, the following day.

But a deeper concern was present, rumbling softly like thunder in the distance. They all knew the prophecy: would Alexander really become the Great King of Destruction?

“Yes he will!” he wanted to yell at them “He will if that’s what it takes for him to be true to himself!”

It occurred to Alexander that perhaps revealing the words Diogenes had spoken would help to set their minds at ease: it was true, he would be the Great King of Destruction, but also the Great King of Rebirth, for there is no renewal if the old is not wiped away. He had been chosen to be the one who would clear the ground for what was to come. He could not deny the deep relief he had felt after speaking with the seemingly crazed philosopher. The fire in him was just too powerful to be extinguished. He had to run, and never stop.

He moved his eyes to survey his generals. Kleitos was leaning against of tof the tent poles, eyeing him carefully and trying to conceal his worry. Funny how everyone had misjudged him, assuming he was simply a man of action: the giant knight was not only fast and lethal in battle, but possessed quick wits and a gift for reading the inner sense of things and human behaviors. Hephaistion, who had spoken little, if any at all, seemed worried too, but not overly so. In the end, he cared nothing for victory or defeat: he lived to insure the king’s safety and the rest mattered to him secondarily in comparison with that primal concern. Ptolemaios was barely preventing from shaking with fear, but he would have been mistaken for a mere coward only by a superficial beholder. The young knight was very well able to win his fears, when needed, and his preference for avoiding direct confrontation and playing subtle on the enemy was very useful in the overall strategy of battle. Kassandra was unreadable, as always. Alexander marvelled at a woman’s ability to make the obvious utterly mysterious. Why was she here? How many would fall to her gracefully handled, lethal sword tomorrow? Parmenio wasn’t even trying to conceal the fact that he felt tired and useless. And yet the old pride, the self-conscience of a man who has cheated death a million times proved that he was not defeated. His king had chosen what he believed to be martyrdome? He would turn it into a great triumph: faith and determination were the names of this man. Antigonos had the expression of one who’s take up thtitutitude of living for the day. That was his way, worrying of things only when he had to face them, dealing with them in his efficient, vigorous way.

Together, all these individuals, made the best command team he could have asked for. If the morrow held no hope, they could be the ones to change it. As they silently left the war council tent, Alexander felt a tension he had not known to be there melt away.

Only one of his generals remained. Alexander let his eyes wander over the slender form cast in shadows. Philotas was there for him, he would be there for him till the end of the world, literally.

There was no concern in the eyes that shone in the dim light, only total trust and loyalty, a life-long affection that had grown from a playmate’s to best friend’s, maybe even further, the king mused. Maybe even further, Alexander hoped.

And then, very suddenly and very unlike himself, in spite of all positive earlier thoughts, he felt the sting of mortality, realizing that the following day he would command this man to go into battle and die for him, if needed. He had already been so close to losing him at Hissos… But Philotas was still standing there, now giving him the mildly puzzled look he always got when he couldn’t quite make out his sovereign’s thoughts and intentions.

Alexander moved closer to him and smiled affectionately. Philotas relaxed visibly and returned the smile, but said nothing, only waiting for him to speak.

“You should be getting your rest, Philotas. I am under the impression that the following days will be quite… busy.”

A little lopsided smile, somewhere between amusement and worry, gave to Philotas’ sharp features a mischievious look. Too beautiful to behold.

“I was just seeing that my king went to ges res rest first.”

“Walk me to my tent, will you?”

Without further words, the two men exited the war council tent and stepped into the warm night of Asia Minor. The moon had not risen yet, and the stars were shining full force in the clear dark blue sky. In the distance, the campfires of the Persian army gloomed like the eyes of a demon, threatening and evil. Alexander almost laughed at the thought. The poor Persian soldiers had no idea what they were going to face. They were but pawns, debris on the field that would see the battle between the two kings. As much as it disturbed him, for his heart was not dry, he could not help but to note that the same applied to the Makedonian army.

He tried to think what Dareios could be doing at that very moment, but that forceful fantasy made him painfully aware of how futile it was to ignore the warmth radiating from the arm of the man beside him, only an inch away from his now. Trying to occupy his mind with thoughts of someone else was totally useless. The mere presence of Philotas filled the air around him.

There was no denying the truth: whatever the results of the battle, everything would be different after it was over. Where would he go? The boundaries of the world would be far enough? But first he would have to take a bride, to insure himself a heir, like any good king. He kept trying to forget his true desire thinking of the sweet Roxane in his arms: dark honey satin hair, fair skin… Roxane… Philotas. The analogy was so obvious he felt utterly foolish.

He glanced at his friend, walking steadily by his side, and suddenly felt all the shields he usually kept up around this man slip away, fall and shatter.

And, just as suddenly, like he had heard the sound of the other’s opening heart, Philotas decided to drop his façade too. The two men stopped on their tracks and stood looking into one another’s eyes for the longest time. There was silence between them, but the gaze they exchanged spoke volumes.

“Are you not afraid of what tomorrow holds?” the king asked softly, moving a little closer.

His admiration for his friend was well deserved: he could tell the young general was unsettled by his closeness, but nonetheless held his gaze firmly. Philotas mentally cursed his lack of control, afraid his great emotion would be mistaken for fear, when it was simply suppressed passion trying to break loose. fin finally, when he managed to speak, only his voice trembled a little.

“The Oracle of Amon said you would die at the hands of someone close to you. I can only guess in spite of all odds we shall win tomorrow’s battle.”

“Do you trust me, Philotas?” Alexander asked again, moving even closer, his chest now touching his friend’s.

“With my life, lord” the brave general replied.

‘With my heart’ seemed to be the unspoken answer to the real core of the question.

Alexander decided he had to have him. He had to have Philotas, as a lover, at least for a brief time, or he would go crazy for desire of him. He recognized the total insanity of the mere thought, and he was also painfully conscious of the fact that he might be reading things which were not there. Would Philotas return his fervor, or would he turn away in disgust? Alexander could trust only his friend’s honesty, that would prevent him from giving in to his king’s desideres out of some twisted sense of duty. Whatever the answer, Philotas would tell the truth: his purity was one of the reasons why his king treasured him so much as a general, as a friend and as his heart’s secret desire.

Alexander surveyed the other carefully, appreciating every feature, letting his eyes wander leasurely over the high, beautifully sculptured cheekbones, the deep hazel eyes, the lean and soft-skinned shoulders… oh, to bury one’s face in the crook of that long, graceful neck!

“Come with me, Philotas” said Alexander softly, turning to leave.

His friend hesitated for a moment, a deep blush on his face, his eyes shy but sparkling.

“King Alexander…” he murmured, shamed out of his wits by the questions that crowded his mind.

Would Alexander have him? Would his beloved king finally return some of the affection he didn’t even know he received? Philotas felt his heart ache with longing, waiting for a sign, any sign that would prove he wasn’t dreaming, or misunderstanding the hidden meaning of the soft tone his beloved had used to address him.

And the sign came: Alexander turned back to him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You said you would trust me, so whe yoe you taking back your word now? Do you not… want me?” he questioned, but there was no disappointment or resentment in his voice.

On the contrary, he understood Philotas completely. He too would have asked for nothing more than to be forever with this man, but a weird, sad knowledge had settled deeply inside him a long time before: if he were to give in to this love, both him and Philotas would forever regret it, because it would mean to give up all they had achieved, all they had fought to become, for they would certainly get lost into one another. This could not be, and Alexander now only feared his friend’s natural longing for commitment would make him turn down a mere taste of the dish he wished to consume. But Philotas was braver than what Alexander had given him credit for. He was prepared to bear the pain of the day after, and just wanted to be sure what he was stepping into.

“I must know… forgive me, my lord. I guess it is bound to be so, but if this will be just a night to remember I have to hear it from your own lips”.

“Would it change what I feel we both want to happen?” Alexander asked, struggling to keep calm.

He was feeling a whole new excitement, a kind unknown to him before that moment. For the first time in years, he cared not in the least for velocity, or for the world’s boundaries. For a night, he would know nothing else but those marvellously warm hazel eyes, for a short but cherished amount of time he would stop being Alexander the Great and be only Alexander, lover of Philotas. The fire stirred inside him as he let the the long hidden fantasy play in his mind.

Philotas felt the heat radiating from him, and couldn’t help but lean in and surrender, both physically and mentally. What did it matter, if he would have a night or a hundred? The prize exceeded what he deserved anyway. To love this man, to be free to show love and have the display returned, wase the than he could have ever hoped for. And suddendly all the constraints Philotas had always kept so hardly upon himself broke, and he felt his sensuality take the lead and drive him to the point of no return. Burning love and passion shone from his eyes as he answered, while his body came alive in response to the closeness of his desire.

“No, it would not. I only wanted to know how I must be considering this intimacy you are allowing me”.

“Philotas… My flames would consume you” Alexander replied slowly, looking away.

To hurt his friend was painful, but lying to him would have done greater damage.

The young general chocked a wracking sob. He hand’t even realized he was so tense, waiting for Alexander to say the words that would seal the faith of their relationship. He had expected the rejection, but that didn’t make it any easier. So, it was to be a one night stand. Despite his reason told him it was better that way, he couldn’t help feeling torn inside. What an odd feeling, to have half of the heart crying in happiness and the other bleeding in agony… With all the little breath he had left, he managed to speak the only thing he still knew: the truth of his heart, his unconditioned pledge of love and loyalty.

“The moth is bound to fall into the flame, my sovereign” the young general sobbed, trying to maintain some control and failing miserably “but I will gladly accept anything you will gift me with, tonight or ever.”

So the decision was taken, the deal done. Alexander circled Philotas’ waist to hold him as they walked to the king’s tent. He saw Hephaistion, silent as a shadow, leaving the hear-range as soon as he saw them. Alexander shot him a quick look, in silent thanks for his sensibility. His bodyguard nodded slightly and couldn’t be seen any longer. Nonetheless, the king knew he would be there, if needed.

In the tent everything was ready for the king’s rest, the camp bed covered with soft cushions and the gentle light of the oil lamps caressing the few objects in the enclosed space. Alexander surveyed the place, making sure everything was agreable and conductive of love-making. He needed the trivial task to keep his mind from the body in his arms, radiating heat that threatened to set him ablaze.

Then he turned to face Philotas, and for what seemed to be an eternity they stood staring at each other, arms around one another’s waist. As much as he had anticipated the moment, the young general was caught completely off guard by the first kiss of his beloved. His knees gave away and he found himself floating weightlessly into an ocean of wonderful and unknown emotions. Every single point where his body made contact with Alexander’s was white hot. He felt he would not survive the heat, if he didn’t let it out. And if just a kiss did this to him, what would happen if they really made love? But Philotas had not time to think about it. Silky lips, soft hair, fire and heat were everything he knew for an unknown length of time.

When he could get a feeling of his surroundings again, he realized Alexander had pushed him on the bed and was stroking him everywhere with infinite tenderness. Looking at those graceful, long fingers, at the caution and care every movement entailed, he felt like crying. He did not deserve this wonderful creature to touch him that way, so gently and lovingly, in places he had never been touched if not out of interest. Reluctantly, but firmly, he stopped the caress and stood.

“Forgive me, my lord… I cannot do this” he whispered apologetically.

Alexander ignored his gesture and took his arm, pulling him down on the bed and on top of himself. He had gone too far to give up, but not far enough not to understand his friend’s true thoughts.

“Stop resisting, Philotas. Believe my words if I say this is not easy for me either. Do you believe you affection is not returned? You are wrong, my friend. Very wrong.”

Philotas saw total acceptance and love in his friend’s eyes, and the deep, hopeless sadness coming from the knowledge that only one night would be theirs. He broke into uncontrollable, soul shattering sobs. He buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck, inhaling the musky aroma of his skin while his hands, completely independent now, roamed freely over Alexander’s body.

“I do not deserve your appreciation” he murmured when he was able to stop for a moment “but if you’ll grace me with your magnificent body tonight, I shall be forever grateful and content of anything you’ll see fit to give me. I adhore you so, my sovereign.”

Alexander cupped the beloved face in his hands and looked intently at him in the eyes. With all his mighty force of will, he conveyed in that touch, in that look, in his words, all the love and desire he felt for Philotas.

“Set all fears aside, my friend, and stop believing yourself unworthy. Taking my body, you are only completing something you started years ago. You know that very well, so please… stop talking and let us make the most of this night.”

The king touched a feather kiss to his lover’s lips and moved a hand to brush against the heated bulge at his crotch.

Philotas gasped, but leaned into the touch, and after a short while returned the loving caress, surprised to find there a desire to match his own. The shock of the first contact over, a little boldness joined the strong emotion, and he increases his stroke on the hard shaft, which responded to the attention reag fug full arousal. Alexander gasped and gave him a pleading look.

“Will you… love me, Philotas? Like…”

“I ask for nothing more, my sovereign. Let me pleasure you… more properly”.

The young general gently pushed his king down on the matress and stripped him slowly and reverently, placing soft kisses on every inch of flesh he uncovered. He was intoxicated by the warmth and the scent of the magnificent body under his hands and lips that for a while forgot about doing anything but tasting and caressing the velvety, fragrant skin. Alexander trembled and gasped under those ministrations, unable to do anything but to grasp the sheets of his bed and almost tear them when Philotas touched a sensitive spot. When the other reached oh so slowly the inside of his tight with the tip of the tongue, he had to pull away or come. Fortunately, he could force himself away from his lover.

“Did I do something wrong, my sovereign?” asked Philotas shyly, ing ing he had displeased Alexander. “Please, tell me … I…”

The way he broke off and the furious blush on his face gave him away. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to hide his lack of experience for long, but still he had hoped he could be bolder than that.

Alexander, understanding his beloved had never laid with another man, gave out a little cry of joy and embraced him tightly. Oh, how precious that he would be his first!

“Philotas… you have never loved another man, have you?”

“N-never, my sovereign… forgive me if I am clumsy. Please, do not order me to leave.”

Alexander’s arousal was mildened by a wave of tenderness as he realized that the reverence used to him was not born out of the fact that he was the king, but rather from the great love and respect Philotas had for him. Also, his friend was so worried with pleasuring him… he couldn’t help feeling touched, and honored. He only had to rectify a wrong idea he had given with his previous words.

“Leave? Philotas…” he murmured, blushing a little. “I pulled away from you because… your touch… so much, Philotas. I was… I would have… come, if I didn’t stop you. I just wanted to last longer… This is all so new to me too.”

The young gereral felt his heart burst with happiness: not in his wildest dreams he had imagined Alexander give in to him, say he loved him, and that he was his first man! Now, definitely, he could die the following day without having a single thing to regret. But now, just now… slowly, he enveloped his lover into a warm embrace.

“My sovereign… it is now I to ask you… Do you trust me? I promise I shall be more attentive to your responses. I want to make this long and sweet, beloved.”

The word “beloved” sent shivers through Alexander’s body, but he had no time to reply before Philotas released him, undressed quickly and resumed his ministrations. The young general had to stop again soon, though, and this time for his own arousal. He had grso hso hard it was starting to be painful.

“Are you…?”

“Fine, my liege?” completed Philotas, smiling. “More than fine, I assure you. Just experiencing the same problem you had before. I have desired you for so long, my body is in sweet agony now. My own flames, as well as yours, are threatening to consume me faster than what would prefereable”.

Silently agreeing on a pause, they embraced and laid together almost motionless, caressing each other’s shoulders lightly and exchanging sweet kisses.

Philotas had to choke back the tears that threatened to fall. Alexander, his beloved Alexander, was laying next to him, in his arms, accepting his effusions and returning them, and it wasn’t even all! He was looking at him tenderly, eyes full of hope and wonder for what was to come. So obviously eager for his touch, for his kiss, for his body… Without even realizing, Philotas pleaded aloud.

“Say it, please. I beg you, just once. Say it to me.”

Alexander’s heart jumped at that prayer, and then filled with tenderness mixed to sadness. But no matter how painful and useless it was to admit to a feeling they could not give in to, after the night was over. Philotas needed to hear it, and he would say it. It was the complete truth, after all.

“I love you, Philotas. With all that I am, for all that you are, I love you.”

The young king felt his lover stiffen in his arms, and then melt completely against him, as his chest seemed to burst open with sobs and his tears finally ran freely.

“I didn’t mean to… You didn’t have to… oh, Alexander! Forgive me, but I adhore you so!”

There was no reply, no more spoken words at all, only ragged breaths and soft moans as the one-time lovers resumed their ealier activity with frantic eagerness. Their caresses grew more and more demanding, and they were both crying when Alexander finally managed to whisper hoarsely.

“Do it to me! PhilotI caI cannot wait another second!”

And suddendly his member was engulfed in soft, wet tightness. Violent shivers shook him everytime Philotas’ tongue ran the lenght of his shaft. It was but a moment until he thrust his hips forward and came with a vengeance he had not thought possible, spilling himself into the hot mouth of his lover. Slowly, as his sweet friend gently and reverently licked him clean, his body relaxed back against the cushions of his bed.

‘Was my back really so arched?’ he wondered, savoring the warm feeling of contentment that was taking over him.

Philotas caressed his beloved a while longer, then laid on his back by his side. He was still unsatisfied, but it did not matter. He would take care of it later by himself, if he had to, though he really doubted it would be necessary. One more touch of his beautiful king, anywhere, and he knew he would shamelessly come. He was unmeasurably happy Alexander had allowed him all that intimacy, and wasn’t about to ask for more. A part of his mind still whispered to him of his unworthiness. Not because Alexander was his king, but because he was so beautiful, so special… utterly unique. And him, Philotas, was just a plain anybody, with nothing special at all…

Alexander was still savouring the warmth the orgasm had spread through his limbs, grateful he had left this experience to share with Philotas… He moved his eyes to the beloved shape laying quietly beside him, and realized how selfish he had been. Philotas’ arousal was still evident, even if he had covered himself shyly with a sheet. The king turned on his side and embraced his lover.

“Forgive me… I was in such a daze for the pleasure you gave me I forgot all about you. I want you to feel as good as I do… and I want to be the one to bring you there. Just tell whicwhich way you prefer.”

Philotas was amazed to see his beloved turn shy, which definitely wasn’t the usual for him, but soon his mind was taken over by something else entirely: Alexander was asking how he could pleasure him! No, this was madness, he could not ask his king, his sovereign to let him… His member, still rock-hard, throbbed at the thought. Penetration… No, it was completely out of the question. He resolved to respectfully ask to be caressed until he climaxed, but Alexander spoke again before he had decided the best way to voice his request.

“Philotas… would you… come inside me?” Alexander asked in a small voice, feeling terribly ashamed, but also incredibly aroused at the thought. He knew his friend had not dared ask for it, the look on his face spoke volumes about it, but what was the point if it was a desire they shared? Besides, if time and energy allowed it, he was planning to return all the favours he was given. Fearing Philotas would stand against it, he decided to show greater determination.

“I really want you to. Please, if it’s not too much to ask…”

The young general vigorously shook his head no at that. He was still too surprised to think straight, but the gods forbid that he reject Alexander’s desire, if it was sincere! He simply could not believe, dared not hope it was real.

“My sovereign… can I speak freely with you?” he finally asked. “I do not wish to offend you.”

“Please, Philotas, do. And stop addressing me so formally, if not as an endearment during the act of love. Please.”

Hearing this reply, he grew brave and spoke softly but firmly.

“Alexander, to be true I had not dared ask for what you propose. Be sure that I would be more than eager and happy to comply, but also be sure that is what you want as well. I’d hate to know that you are giving in to my desires for anything other than their correspondence to your own. This is all I have to say. If you are not certain you are wishing to let me come inside you, I want you to understand that the knoledge of having forced myself upon you would hurt me much more than your rejection. I have already had from you much more than what I had ever dreamed.”

Alexander nodded his understanding, then his thoughts lingered on his friend’s last words. His voice became husky and his eyes filled with desire.

“You dreamed… about me? Tell me, what was it like? And… did you really stop at this in your dreams?”
Philotas swallowed a huge lump in his throath. As much as he enjoyed foreplay, his lover was driving him crazy with that look of his. Nonetheless, he played along.

“I dreamed of you… in my arms, in my bed… all over my body. You and me… kissing, touching, licking, biting… Your cock in my mouth, and mine in yours… Being inside you, and then the other way around. Slow and loving at times, hard and demanding at others. I have had so many nights alone to think of you, to dream about being with you, and yet reality beats all fantasies. I love you, Alexander, more than words can tell. More than life itself.”

The young general tried hard to convey in his voice all the desire, the love and the tenderness he felt, together with his gratitude and appreciation. As he spoke he embraced his lover tightly, nibbling at his earlobe and whispering directly into his ear. The speech dissolved into husky, hot words of longing, and both grew hard and ready for love. A gentle but firm hand urged Alexander to lay on his stomach, and he obliged promptly.

Philotas explored with feathery touches of his fingers the muscular back, the firm ass, and the hidden and most private entrance that would soon open for him. He felt Alexander’s shivers and moans of pleasure, and decided to explore a little further. He left the bed for a moment, silencing his lover’s sobs of protest with soothing and loving words, and searched for something that would smooth the process. When he found a bottle of body oil meant for the king’s soft skin, he took it and returned to the sleeping alcove, pausing only a moment to contemplate the enticing show before him.

Alexander was still sprawled on his stomach, his legs slightly parted and his back rising and falling for his quick breath. A thin layer of perspiration sheated him completely, making his fair skin almost glow in the dim light. Philotas wondered what he had done to be prized with this sight for the gods, but soon he was overcome by desire. He kneeled beside his sovereign, resuming his caress. He applied the oil on his fingers and then, slowly and gently, slipped one inside the entrance.

Alexander covered his mouth with a pillow, unable to stop the scream that escaped his lips. At first he felt a little pain and tensed, but when his body naturally responded to the exciting probe he felt a magnificent heat engulf him and bring him almost over the edge again. As if of their own volition, his hips moved higher and his legs spread further, allowing his lover complete and easy access to his body.

An invitation Philotas had not the strenght nor the will to refuse. The young general positioned himself between his friend’s legs and used his hands to part the firm buttocks, placing the tip of his penis against the opening.

“Alexander… I…”

“D-do it… can’t wait… love you!”

Entering Alexander was like diving into the hot lava of a volcano. His own excitement and his king’s melted together in a ragged moan of extasy, and for a moment they stood motionless, savouring the new feeling and allowing each other’s body to adapt. Alexander fantasized about how Philotas could be feeling, but resolved he would know in his turn. Right now, he had no desire to rush. For the first time, he was letting somebody else control and dominate him. It was disquieting, but also extremely pleasant. To give in, to be filled by this man was no danger, for the act was born of nothing if not the fondest love.

Slowly and carefully Philotas surrendered to his own urgency and started to move inside the virgin opening. He tried hard to take it easy, not to hurt his beautiful lover, who was encouraging him with eager movements of his hips. The young general refused to think how he adhored Alexander, how much he had waited for this moment, not knowing it would ever come. This was nothing like the wine-induced youthful experimentation they had shared in Epillos. Alexander didn’t even remember that. This was love. His hips started moving faster, and his shaft thrusted powerfully inside his lover. He bent over to kiss Alexander’s shoulders and neck, whispering unintellegible words of white-hot desire.

“Ph-Philotas!” Alexander exclaimed, with the little breath he had left for speech. The strokes of the organ inside him generated such heat in his entire body that he felt like his muscles were melting away. Only his own cock was again hard to the point of no return, imprisoned in his friend’s knowing hand.

Philotas felt his penis throb with the unmistakable shock of heat that accompanied climax, and increased his thrusts frantically, barely suppressing the wild scream of powerful release that would have probably wakened every living soul in the range of a hundred miles. Hearing his lover come, and feeling the hot fluid fill him, Alexander too came with a muffled cry of happiness and pleasure.

Time stood still as breaths calmed and heart rates slowed. Finally, with sad reluctance, Philotas abandoned the tight opening and laid sprawled on his back, still panting slightly, looking up.
“I love you, Alexander” he said simply, his voice even and serious, but full of contentment.
The young king turned on his side to embrace his lover, putting his head on the warm shoulder. He melted against the familiar angles of the lean body, unable to say anything at all. How could he explain what he had never felt in his entire life? To make love to one’s soulmate is too powerful a sensation to be translated into words.

As they relaxed, they started exchanging loving caresses and light kisses.

“Wake me up if I fall asleep” Alexander said with a little, tender smile. “I am so warm and comfortable now… but I’m not done with you yet.”

Philotas chuckled delightedly, squeezing the beautiful body in his arms just a little.

“Unsatiable, are we, my sovereign? I, too, have not had enough of you just yet.”

Despite their efforts, they did fall asleep for a short while, losing themselves in the safe haven they had created within the sheltering circle of one another’s arms. Philotas woke first and gently disentangled himself from his lover, going in search of some refreshment for both of them. When he sat back beside Alexander, holding a cup of water in each hand, the young king stirred and opened his eyes. The smile that spread on his lips, brightening his perfectly chiseled features, made Philotas’ heart jump. He gave the wakening beauty a cup without a single word, and couldn’t help but stare at the long, graceful fingers that took it from his hands and brought it to the sensual mouth to take a sip.

“You are transfixed, my friend” Alexander observed playfully, ignoring the heat that raised inside him as he felt those piercing hazel eyes appreciate and almost devoure every curve of his body.

“So blame me, if you are gorgeous” Philotas replied with a short laugh, after gulping down all his water. “I really can’t help it, my beautiful sovereign.”

“You aren’t quite bad yourself, did you know that?”

Philotas shot him a sideways ironic look.

“You don’t need to lie out of affection, Alexander. I know my face and body well, and there’s nothing attractive in them.”

The young king sat up and looked at his lover seriously. He couldn’t believe Philotas was oblivious to his own charms.

“You are wrong, my friend. First, I do not lie, and then… I do find you beautiful. You are beautiful because every single feature of you speaks of your character, heart and mind, which I learned to love and respect.”

Alexander was solemn when he spoke, and then his face warmed with unmistakeable tenderness and desire.

“Can’t you just take my word for it? You are so beautiful, my love.”

Philotas embraced him tightly, burying his face in the silky mahogany hair.

“My lord…what can I say?” he sobbed, as his sensuality began to take over again.

Alexander pulled him down on the bed, whispering words of desire.

“Say you are mine” he pleaded “and that you’ll give yourself over to me right now.”

***

Almost one year later...

The heat of Alexander’s skin against his back felt incredibly good, even as the hand laid on his martoriated chest sent a jolt of searing pain through his entire body. He absently realized that everyone was holding his breath, waiting for the king’s final decision about his destiny. Unfortunately, the choice was out of Alexander’s hands: Philotas knew that to avoid turmoils and rebellions an example must be set against conspiracy. Fate had unfairly chosen him as the scape goat, but he took solace in the fact that, even if for the wrong reasons, his death would serve a high purpose, one most important to him: preserving what he and Alexander had fought so hard to accomplish.

“Philotas” the king murmured, deliriously.

He was fighting against the poison and his fever was so high another man without the same fibre would have probably died. The young general forgot his own suffering and, as the cold, merciful blade run through his rib-cage and reached his heart, he relived all the beautiful moments of his life, and realized they had been so only because his beloved sovereign was part of them.

“Forgive me… I love you” Alexander whispered, too low for human hearing, before fainting.

It didn’t matter, for Philotas was dead.

***

End notes: Woah, this fic is oooold! But since it got deleted on FF.net, I\'m reuploading it here. Not that anyone wille. De. Does Reign even have a fandom? Sigh. I only came across a couple of fanartists on the net, and all their works were Alex/Hephaestion... not that they don\'t look good, and I know Hephaestion was probably Alexander\'s real lover in history, but hey... in the anime Alex/Phil makes much more sense in my opinion. Oh well. I also wanted to put up something different, since all my stuff around is StS, basically.